


Legato (In Tune)

by Engineer104



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, SO MUCH FLUFF, so they're both disgustingly sweet and a little spicy, they're newlyweds if that says anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Felix wakes Annette, but not in any manner she would expect.Or: Annette learns Felix plays piano...very, very badly.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	Legato (In Tune)

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up one morning last weekend with this idea on the brain so naturally i had to write it. It's nothing fancy, just a couple of newlyweds being tender (and a little um...suggestive ~~help i'm embarrassed~~ ), so I hope you like it!

When Annette woke, she woke alone.

Not so long ago, that hadn’t been so unusual, but this morning after the last month spent growing accustomed to sharing a bed and heat in the night, reaching out to the other side and finding no warm body beside her was…jarring.

She bolted upright with a yawn splitting her jaws as her sluggish mind puzzled through this new mystery. She wasn’t even entirely sure what woke her, only that it robbed her of a pleasant dream she’d already forgotten. Her hair, mussed with sleep and by amorous hands the night before, tickled her bare shoulders, and dimly she tried to push it out of her face while mapping out when she’d have time to wash it later in the day.

And then she heard it.

From somewhere in a room adjacent to the bedchamber drifted the horrifically out-of-tune tinkling of a piano.

Annette winced at the flat notes and at the unpracticed musician faltering mid-phrase. But in the same instant excitement gripped her, and any lingering trace of sleep fell away. She stumbled out of bed, cursing when her legs tangled in the sheets conspired against her, and grabbed her dressing gown from where it lay in a heap on the floor from when it was so carelessly tossed aside in the midst of matters more pressing than hanging it neatly.

Her feet sank into plush carpet when she left the warmth of a soft bed behind, padding towards the bedchamber door into the sitting room. She remembered noticing the small upright piano tucked into a corner on her first night here but never asked about it just to sate her own curiosity for fear of risking stirring up unpleasant memories on what was one of the happiest nights of her life.

As she approached, her heart hammered against her ribs like she crept up on an enemy in battle rather than a surprising musician. A smile plucked at her lips as if he played a harp rather than a piano.

Felix sat at the bench, bent over the keys with his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands, so much larger than her own, spanned octaves, but rather than the dexterity with which he handled both sword and quill or the deliberate gentleness he used when touching her, it looked almost…clumsy.

His finger slipped. He struck a wrong note and hissed in a low voice, “Dammit, her birthday’s in a _month_.”

“I feel like it’s come a month early, actually,” Annette said before she could think better of disturbing him.

Felix jumped, almost stumbling over the bench as he stood and slammed the lid on the keys shut. As he swiveled around to stare at her, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, he looked less like she startled him while playing piano and more like he did when she dared to kiss him in front of Sylvain.

“Y-you’re awake,” he stammered. “Why are you awake? You usually sleep in later.”

Annette crossed her arms, far too amused at his expense (how the tables turned!), and retorted, “That’s because I usually have my husband with me, but instead of him I found a villain playing piano loudly enough to wake me.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and didn’t meet her eyes, his hair, still loose, making a convenient curtain for him to hide behind. “I was going to return after,” he muttered. “Just wanted to finish one infernal song first.”

“Maybe I can help!” she said. She crossed the room towards him - narrowly avoiding tripping over a stool, what _was_ that doing there? - and slid on the end of the bench before patting the spot next to her.

“You can play?” Felix asked, blinking at her, but he resumed his seat to her relief and slid the lid back open.

Gratified, Annette leaned against him long enough for him to wrap an arm around her back and press a greeting kiss into her hair. “Not really,” she admitted, though she positioned her hands centered around a C. The keys were a little rough and cracked under her fingertips, showing their age even if the poor tuning hadn’t, but they felt worn and comfortable too. “My mother does,” she explained, “but she wanted me to take up the harp instead.” She stared mournfully at her small hands and scowled when she strained to extend one across a single octave. “I’m surprised…you do.” She glanced sideways at him, suddenly feeling a little shy about witnessing this unknown side of the man she’d known and loved for years.

“I don’t, not exactly,” he said. His thumbs found middle C, his index finger hovering over the first black key - C sharp - before depressing it. “My mother wanted me to learn too, so I did, but I haven’t played since…”

Annette’s chest tightened, but she rested her hand on his wrist. “You don’t have to tell me,” she mumbled.

“Well”—he wrinkled his nose, as if that did something to banish the bitterness that came with remembering—”I want to, I guess.” He turned his hand over and slid his fingers between hers. “My mother once told the old—my father that if my hands were big enough to hold a sword, they were big enough to learn piano.”

“O-oh?”

“I, um, wasn’t very good at it,” Felix said with a wry smile, “but I had lessons for a few years even though I hated it. It was probably the only thing I really resented my father for until…”

“You don’t have to finish that sentence either,” Annette said when he trailed off. She squeezed his fingers and turned to press her forehead against his shoulder. His other hand - the one she didn’t hold in hers - rested on the back of her head to hold her closer. “So…then you stopped,” she guessed, her voice muffled in his shirtsleeve.

“Then I stopped,” he agreed, and she felt more than saw him nod. His hand fell away, and she lifted her head to find him watching her. “I suppose practicing piano is more like training in swordplay than I realized. If you stop for years, the body forgets.”

“You don’t _have_ to do this if it’s for me, Felix,” she said, though even as the words left her lips a warmth unfurled in her chest. “We can do something else on my birthday, if that’s why—”

“Well, not just your birthday, maybe,” Felix interrupted with a shrug. He played a major scale with his left hand, the motion halting and the notes uneven, and with frustration written all over his face in his twisting lips.

Annette mimicked him with her right, but when her fingers, unfamiliar with the motion, tangled, she gave up with a laugh and let it fall into her lap. “Well, if you do practice, we can perform a duet. I’ll sing, and you can accompany me.”

Felix snorted. “I doubt I’ll ever be good enough to accompany your singing, Annette.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she replied, “You won’t know unless you try! Maybe we’ll both improve in our respective crafts and we can perform duets together by the time we have children, just for them.”

He covered his face with a hand, and at first Annette worried she said the wrong thing until she noticed how much his ears reddened. A laugh burst from her, and she reached for his hand to tug it away from his face.

“Also,” she added when he managed to meet her eyes, “I think you need to hire someone to tune the piano. It’s not entirely your fault it sounds atrocious.”

He groaned but said, “Fine, I’ll look into that later. For now…” The slightest hint of a smile curled his lips. “Are you still annoyed you woke up without me?”

Annette raised an eyebrow. “You’ve explained yourself pretty well, I think,” she conceded, “but you still haven’t apologized.”

Felix startled her by kissing her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair before cupping her jaw to tilt her head back to press his lips against hers. She slid her arms around his neck the same instant one of his wrapped around her waist. Warmth flooded her, and she tried to pour it back into him.

The prospect of Felix relearning the piano didn’t excite her so much as the idea that he did it for _her_.

When they parted, in want of air but in need of each other, Annette’s hand found his cheek. His dark eyes met hers, intense enough a shiver traveled up her spine, and she muttered, “Come back to bed with me? The piano will still be here later, but only a villain would keep his wife waiting.”

“In this, I’m not a villain,” Felix insisted. He closed the piano lid and stood before offering her a hand.

Annette smiled as she took it and followed him back to the bedchamber.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't played piano in at least a year and at this point I'm afraid of what's worse: my very rusty skills or how out of tune the piano is.
> 
> My understanding of the line between T and M is a little vague because i very rarely post anything that requires anything higher than T so if you think I ought to bump the rating please let me know x_x
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed this <3


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